


Out of Time

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: One Night [3]
Category: Carol (2015), Ocean's 8 (2018), The House with a Clock in its Walls (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Lou's backstory, Magic, Time Travelling Lesbians, Women Being Awesome, parenting, teen!Debbie, teen!Lou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: Carol and Florence are starting to build their life together, secure in their relationship, and taking the first steps together. Carol is even starting to walk the path of magic. A fierce thunderstorm one night leads to the sudden appearance of a teenage girl in their house, bright blonde hair, dark eyeliner and a spiky personality.Lost out of her own time, Lou finds herself in a place which is much better than the one she left, but is she the only one brought back by the rip in the space-time continuum? If she's not, what kind of a future can they build?Subtitled: How Many Cate Blanchetts Can I Fit In One Fic





	1. Chapter 1

Carol and Florence were cuddled up together in the living room as the day drew to a close. It was nice to enjoy this peace, to have this quiet time to just breathe and exist together. It had taken them long enough to find each other, and the road had been far from smooth, which was a large part of why they treasured these moments so much. Peace and healing were valuable after some of the things they'd been through. 

There was a storm outside, a spring storm which was far from full strength, and Carol held Florence just a little closer, a little tighter, because she knew the stories of why storms were so much harder for the other woman to relax in. Those demons were long gone, but associations always lingered. 

A huge clap of thunder sounded right over head, shaking the house to its foundations as a flash of lightning seemingly from nowhere blinded them, splitting the sky in a flash before it vanished just as quickly. The house was left in darkness, and Florence clicked her fingers, setting a gentle purple glow in the sconces so they could still see as she got up from the couch. 

Carol followed her, resting her hand gently on Florence's arm to catch her attention as the purple witch looked around. 

"...Can you feel something?"

"...I don't know. Something happened, I would be prepared to swear to that. The storm itself was normal until that, but something like that is symptomatic of magic. There's something new."

"...Alright."

Carol nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She was still a novice in the world of magic, and found it a little intimidating. Florence was lovely, powerful, and a patient teacher, but by its very nature magic was a world of unknowns. 

"...Should I fetch Jonathan?"

"...Not yet. If something goes terribly wrong, Snakespeare will alert him before it can spread. Let's search together. If you were a little stronger in your power I would suggest that we split up, but... for now I think we would do better together. Let's start upstairs."

Carol swallowed, following Florence as she headed for the stairs, creeping up them in silence, umbrella at the ready. Carol still found her choice of wand bemusing, but she understood how important it was to have something which could be hidden in plain sight. That was the rationale between so many traditionally 'witchy' items like brooms - every household had one. For a long time the survival of magic users depended on being invisible. In many ways that hadn't changed, and she was very aware that if they were discovered there was a not insignificant chance they could be dragged off to New Mexico and disappeared into some government program. Or just killed, with the new movement spearheaded by Senator McCarthy. Their best protection at the moment was the scepticism of the modern age. 

A floorboard creaked underfoot as Florence made her way towards the little guest bedroom at the end of the hall that was rarely used. Sometimes Lewis stayed in it, but usually it was empty. There was a light under the door, and the sound of movement inside. Knuckles white around the handle of her umbrella, she gently used the tip to nudge the door open. 

On the bed, arms around her knees, was a girl, a young woman really. She looked all of about fourteen, lanky and skinny in ways she hadn't quite grown into, with long, awkward legs. She had platinum blonde hair, lighter than Carol's but not quite as pale as Florence's which changed from silver to blonde in the right light. She had dramatic kohl around her eyes, like some eastern actress, but light blue eyes, and the eyeliner itself only drew attention to the purple fading around one eye. 

Her clothes were entirely foreign. Leather and denim and fabrics which were decidedly unfeminine, and there was something about her which felt entirely unreal. 

Florence did not relax, but she was still keeping the umbrella lowered by her side, trying to seem unthreatening. 

"...Hello."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"...Well that seems unnecessary."

"Where the fuck am I, why are you dressed like that, who are you? Did you drug me? Is this a cult? Is that what's going on?"

"...No. None of that. You're quite safe, I promise. In order for us to answer those questions it might help if you might tell us a little bit about who you are and how you think you came to be here."

"I'm not telling you /shit/."

"...My name is Florence. This is Carol."

The girl shifted a little, eyes bright as her keen gaze flicked between them. 

"...You two a couple of lesbians?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you fucking?"

"...Would it be a problem?"

"..." A pause, a quick headshake, the movement harsh, "Nah. Not with me. I'm not interested in judging people. Besides, I've never met another one before."

Florence paused a moment, then nodded, smiling a little, noting that choice of phrase. 

"...Well, we are. Might I ask you to do me a favour, since you seem to find yourself in my house?"

"...Depends."

"Could you perhaps please try to cut down on the profanity?"

"...I'll try, but no promises."

"Thank you. That's a charming accent, where are you from?"

"Australia."

"...That is... a very long way. How did you get here?"

"I don't know."

"...Alright, so you're on your own?"

The girl straightened her shoulders, tensing for either fight or flight, Carol wasn't sure which, reaching out to rest her hand for a moment on the small of Florence's back for support. She was impressed at how well her love was handling this. 

"...No? There are... there's... a boyfriend, waiting for me. If I don't come back he'll call the police."

"...I'm sure he will," Florence's voice was gentle as she continued, "...You look hungry. Can I get you some food? Maybe a hot drink?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably, then shrugged. 

"...Yeah, sure, if you're offering. What's the price?"

"No price, except maybe your name?"

There was a long pause, and then another sharp nod, the jerk of her head which Carol recognised as painfully defensive. 

"...Lou."


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright Lou. Do you know where you were before this?"

"Thought you said my name was the only price for something to eat."

"You're right, of course. Would you like to come downstairs? I can make you a sandwich, or some eggs, and there are plenty of cookies."

Lou hesitated, and Florence smiled as gently as she could, sadness shadowing her eyes. 

"...If you'd rather stay here, we can bring something up for you?"

"...Perhaps I can fetch you something to eat and bring it up?" Carol suggested. She already felt like Florence was establishing more of a kinship with this strange young woman, and really, that was only to be expected. Florence was far more used to magic and what magic could do than Carol was, but right now her maternal instincts were kicking in hard too, and she didn't quite know what to do with herself. 

Lou regarded her for a long moment with blue-grey eyes that were far more haunted than those of a girl that age should ever be, and then she noded. 

"...Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks."

"Perhaps scrambled eggs on toast? And coffee? Or cocoa?"

"...Coffee please. Eggs sound good."

Carol smiled, smoothing her apron down as she headed once more for the door. 

"...Alright. I'll bring that up shortly."

Lou watched her go, then turned her attention back to Florence. Her walls were still up, but there were little hints in there that seemed promising.

"...Where am I?"

"This is a small town in Michigan called New Zebedee."

"...How the fuck did I get here?"

"I mean, that's an excellent question. It's something we can perhaps try to work out in the morning. It's very late here."

"What time is it?"

"10."

"And that's late?"

Florence smiled a little, tilting her head, eyes narrowing just the slightest as she regarded the new arrival. 

"...What's the last date you remember?"

"Day?"

"Date, more importantly."

"Friday March 13th 1992."

Florence paused for just the briefest moment as her suspicions were confirmed, and she flexed her fingers, folding her hands neatly together as she tried to find the words to explain.

Lou was staring at her from under her spiky fringe, and there was a resignation growing on her face. 

"...Why? When is it now?"

"Friday September 13th. 1957."

"...You're fucking with me."

"I'm afraid not."

"You're drugging me or-"

"How could I be drugging you? You haven't eaten or drunk anything, you've barely been in contact with your surroundings. You weren't even asleep, were you? You were awake, doing something, and then there was a clap of thunder, and a bright light, and suddenly you were here?"

"How the fuck did you-"

Florence sighed, running her fingers back through her hair in an uncharacteristic show of distraction. 

"...I could tell you, but I don't know that you'd believe me anymore than you do about the date."

"Try me."

"I'm a witch. So's Carol, really, but she's more of a witch in training."

"And what, you fucking summoned me here? Are you going to sacrifice me or something?"

"No. It was the storm, I think. We had a big one here, it was rumbling along minding its own business when that lightning came out of nowhere. Just the one flash like that? There was something... wrong about it, something in the air, something powerful."

"I don't believe you about the year. I don't know that I believe you about the place either."

"Well... you're not a prisoner here, you're welcome to go out and investigate, though you might attract some comments dressed like that and I'd be concerned about you having a run in with the police."

Lou snorted, glancing away. 

"...The police are easy. Doesn't take much to get them off my case, they've got better things to be doing. Little blowie usually makes that go away."

Florence tried to mask her flinch as her stomach turned a little, and she fought back the urge to reach out for this fragile, spiky, perfect young woman on the bed. 

"...Maybe where you were before, but this is a small town in the fifties. Cops usually take teenagers a bit more seriously, if only to have some excitement. Tomorrow I'll find you some clothes and give you a key and fifty cents for a sundae. There's a great little place in town. You can walk around and see for yourself. But please try not to swear at people? Sensibilities are... a little different."

"...Sure. Whatever."

She shifted a little on the bed and Florence bit back a sigh. 

"...You're soaked through, may I find you some dry clothes?"

"...I'll be fine."

"It's no trouble?"

"...Fine. Sure. Thanks. Can I at least keep these with me?"

Florence smiled, eyes crinkling a little at the edges with a sadness she couldn't suppress. 

"...Of course. I don't want to take them from you."

Lou nodded, arms looped loosely around her knees, tucking herself in smaller, trying to be unobtrusive. She glanced out the window at the quiet street, and the old cars outside, and then back to Florence. 

"...Really 1950s America?"

"...Really 1950s America. Don't worry. We'll work out a way to get you home, I promise."

Lou shrugged, a half smile which didn't reach her eyes twitching on her lips. 

"...I wouldn't rush. Nothing to go back to really. I was trying to get out, just didn't figure I'd end up here. Guess for now I'll make the best of it. Thanks for not just... throwing me out."

"...You're safe here, as long as you need it."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Florence hesitated, then rose with a smile of her own, one that was equally not-quite real. 

"...I'll just fetch you those clothes, I won't be a moment."


	3. Chapter 3

Having left the room, Florence took a few deep breaths, looking around as Carol came up the stairs behind her, a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of coffee in her hands. She frowned, and shifted things to free one hand up, gently resting it on Florence's side, on her back, rubbing lightly. 

"...Are you alright love?"

"...Yes. I'm fine. Perhaps a little off-balance, that's all. I'm finding some clothes."

Carol nodded, pausing just a moment longer before she crossed behind Florence to deliver the food. Florence, meanwhile, dug through the airing cupboard and pulled out a spare nightdress. It would swamp the girl, but there was little she could do about it. In the morning, perhaps, she could find some other spares. She rather suspected that nothing in this house would really meet with Lou's tastes, however compromises would have to be made. 

When she returned, Carol was already there and Lou was halfway through inhaling her food and coffee. She looked up when Florence came in, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and Florence tried not to smile as Lou swallowed it with a tremendous effort. 

"...You want me to wear that?"

"We're... a little restricted in what we've got available. It's something to wear tonight at least? Your things can dry off?"

"...Thanks," Lou nodded, watching her for a beat before she dived back into her food. 

Carol exchanged a look with Florence. 

"...Would... you perhaps like a warm bath?"

"...No shower?"

"No. Not yet. Not out here anyway. But would you like a bath?"

Lou hesitated and then nodded again. 

"...Yeah. Thanks. Sounds nice."

"I'll run one for you."

She disappeared, and Lou's attention switched back to Florence, watching her keenly from behind that messy fringe. 

"...This is weird. I mean, I don't hate it, but it's weird. Who are you?"

"Florence Zimmermann."

"Florence Zimmermann, witch, in 1950s suburban America? That who you've always been?"

"No..." Florence hesitated, then sat, perching on the chair tucked under the desk in the corner of the small guest room, "I've always been Florence Zimmermann, but no, I haven't always been a witch in 1950s suburban America. I've been a witch for a long time, most of my life, but I was born in Europe and I grew up there. Do you know much history?"

"Not much. If I was still at home I would have studied it next year."

"Studied what?"

"The war. That's what you mean, isn't it?"

Florence swallowed and nodded slowly, folding her hands in her lap. 

"...Yes. It is."

"Were you caught up in that?"

"I think everyone in Europe was, to some degree or another. And beyond. It's not an exaggeration to call it a world war, but most of the ground fighting at least was in Europe. There were battles in the Pacific, and Japan was invaded at the end, but more of the combat out there was with ships and planes. Europe is mostly a continuous landmass and so... armies could run rampant. And they did. The Nazis pulled people into camps from all over the place..."

Her voice faltered, memories rearing up and choking off her words, even as she tried to keep it succinct enough to be interesting, to provide some kind of context for this girl. 

Lou's loosely folded arms were resting on her knees, and her chin was on top of them as she regarded Florence with a surprising degree of compassion. 

"...They hurt you?"

"Have you heard of Auschwitz?"

"I read the Diary of Anne Frank."

"Who?"

"Oh some Jewish teenager in the Netherlands. She and her family hid behind a wardrobe, but they got found eventually. She ended up in Auschwitz, and then in Bergen-Belsen with her sister. They both died there. Her dad survived apparently. The story always kind of... stuck with me. I think that's why they made us read it."

Florence paused again, striving for a grip on herself, staring at the floor and focusing on her breathing. She jumped when she felt a touch to her hand, looking up to find that Lou had moved closer, that there was genuine concern on her face. 

"Hey... you don't have to tell me? I'm sorry."

"No I..." Florence swallowed and tugged up her sleeve, "I was in Auschwitz. With my husband and my daughter."

Lou nodded slowly, comprehension dawning.

"...You lost them too, huh?"

Florence nodded mutely, and Lou moved to embrace her, small and skinny and damp, spiky and wild and /kind/. She didn't even hesitate before she hugged the strange girl back. 

"That why you became a witch?"

"No, I... I was witch long before that. My magic was the toast of Paris in the twenties. I melted Salvador Dali's watch once, right off his wrist. That... broke me, though. I couldn't... I lost control of my magic. I ran here after the war."

"Here? This is your place?"

"Yes. It is."

Lou shifted back and nodded slowly. 

"...Guess we're both a little out of place here? I mean, me maybe a little more than you, but..."

"But I know a little about how it feels to be out of place, even if perhaps not out of time."

Florence smiled, and Lou slowly smiled in return, a real one which lit her face up like a star and shone bright in her eyes. It was amazing how an expression could so comprehensively transform a face. 

"So this is your place... maybe that's why it feels safe. I don't know. There's something about you. I should be terrified, I've woken up... on the other side of the world, in a different decade, or so you're telling me, with people I've never seen before. And you're also expecting me to believe in magic. That's a lot. I don't trust people, but I've had to get pretty good at judging pretty fast, and I think... I think I can trust you. At least a little bit."

"Enough to sleep?"

"Enough to sleep. That bath sounds good too."

Florence smiled and stood, holding a hand out to help Lou up too. 

"Alright. I'll find you a towel. How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? Overwhelmed and exhausted and... a whole mess of things. Mainly I figure everything will be clearer if I get some sleep."

"That will probably help. There's a lock on the bathroom, and there's one on your bedroom too. From the inside. You can lock the door and sleep as long as you need, and tomorrow we'll see what we can find out."

Lou nodded, standing and stripping off her shirt, paper-pale skin moving over ribs so prominent Florence just wants to hug her all over again, wrap her in a blanket and make her a proper meal. It's not that that takes her by surprise as much as the cuts on her skin, on her ribs and stomach, her arms, some mostly healed, some obviously old, some fresher. There were bruises too, old and new and blossoming over her back and ribs.

She realised she was staring when Lou thrust the shirt at her, chin raised defiantly, jaw set, eyes back to being glittering and hard as she wordlessly challenged the woman to comment. 

After a moment, Florence took the shirt and forced herself to smile again. 

"...If you leave your things outside the bathroom, I'll see what I can do about getting them clean and dry for you."

"Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

Florence returned to the bedroom, sorting through the laundry basket of her and Carol's things, trying to find enough to pull together a load. She focused on that, because it was always easier to have a task when the entire world seemed to be spinning out of control. She heard the knock on the door, and left it for Carol to answer. Whatever it was, she needed a moment before she could face it and these days she had someone else to run interference for her. 

When she heard muffled conversation rather than the immediate closing of the door, and recognised the resonance of Jonathan's voice, Florence sighed and headed downstairs, arms full of clothes to put in the washing machine. She had never been so grateful for Carol's insistence as now. 

Jonathan looked positively manic, she hadn't seen him like that for a long time, but there was something nice still about the way he relaxed a little when he saw her, although Carol had evidently had the situation well in hand.

"Jonathan? What's going on?"

"Florence, I need your help, did you see that lightning strike about twenty minutes ago?"

"Yes we did."

"Did something weird happen to you? Because we-"

"Yes. We have a time traveller in the house."

"Okay well we do too and I don't know what to do about her-"

"Her?"

"Yeah, she's like... fourteen? I had no idea what to do with Lewis, I have LESS idea what to do with her, can she..."

"Yes, she can come over here. Perhaps Carol can go over with you to meet her? I don't want to leave because our own little time traveller is in the bath and I want to make sure she has someone familiar in the house. We have space, and I agree that it's probably disorientating enough without having to put up with you or the nuances of your house."

"Hey, you love me. And my house."

"Yes yes. Give my best to Chair, but do hurry up. It's late, and if she needs things washed I'd rather just do the one load."

Carol grabbed her coat and pulled it on, shooting Jonathan a warm smile, her old charm easily coming back to the surface for all that she rarely used it these days. 

"Shall we?"

"After you..."

Florence rolled her eyes but smiled, sharing a worried glance with Carol as she glanced back over her shoulder, hurrying out into the night. 

Florence paused for a moment, then set the clothes down in a basket by the machine and crossed to put a pan of milk on. It seemed like the kind of night for cocoa. Perhaps even with a measure of something in it. She could certainly feel the need for that coming on too. 

Victor ambled his way in, sniffed the laundry, and gave Florence a baleful glance which she returned with a raised eyebrow. 

"...What? Am I disturbing your sleep?"

"Boof."

"I'm terribly sorry. How inconsiderate of me."

"Boof."

"Oh go lie down and leave me alone, you irascible rug. You need to be on your best behaviour tonight."

"Boof."

"And the same to you."

Sometimes she felt a little ridiculous talking to a dog, but he was more engaged in the conversations than Snakespeare tended to be, even if he was generally a complete pain. Something about him had seemed right when she and Carol had decided a dog might be nice to have around the house, and he was certainly big enough to scare off Harge if Carol's ex-husband ever decided to come calling again. He ate huge amounts and was lazy enough to be mistaken for a piece of furniture at first glance, but there was still something comforting about him, and Florence had no trouble keeping him well in hand. 

A few minutes later the door opened again, and Florence glanced up to see Carol returning, accompanied by a girl who was tall for fourteen and slender, a curtain of brunette hair tumbling around her shoulders, and a set to her jaw which Florence recognised. 

"...And what's your name?"

"Debbie. Ocean. Like Frank Ocean? He'll hear about this. Kidnapping me is not going to work out well for anyone."

"Nobody's kidnapped you. I think you know that really. You look like an intelligent girl. Your clothes are soaked too. I'm just putting a load of laundry on to get things clean and dry, some of our things, and the other girl who fell through time."

"What's this fucking fell through time bullshit?"

"...Oh good, you both swear. Wonderful. Please would you mind trying not to swear so much? It's a bit unnecessary."

"Well what the hell's your problem? Why's everyone so uptight here?"

"Because here is the nineteen fifties. Have you fallen back from the nineties too?"

"What do you mean fallen back from?"

"We're not sure yet, but you're not the only one. Are you hungry?"

"I am not eating anything you give me it's probably drugged."

"It's not drugged, and we didn't know you were coming. We haven't exactly made intricate preparations. I'm making some cocoa? And I think we have enough eggs left to make you some if you'd like some."

"Excuse me, could I have some cocoa please?"

Florence turned to see Lou on the stairs. She looked different with her makeup washed off, more vulnerable somehow, but there was still a hardness in her eyes and the nightdress she was borrowing came to just above her knees, leaving the scars on her arms bare.

"Of course. I was just going to come up and ask if you'd like some."

"I brought my other things down, if it's not too late for them to get washed."

"Not at all, thank you very much."

Florence glanced back at the new arrival to see her staring at Lou open-mouthed and utterly captivated. She knew what that look meant. 

"...Do you two know each other?"

"No. No idea who she is. I'd kinda like to though..."

"Lou."

"...I'm Debbie, but you can call me any time."

"Thanks for the offer babe, but I think I've got your number."

"Oh please tell me it's ten."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you're at least an eleven."

"...You're smooth."

"Yeah, and you're being very rude, so why don't you take it down a couple notches."

"You can't tell me you're actually buying this?" Debbie glanced around, gesturing at the house, at Florence and Carol, "Magic doesn't exist, and even if it did why the hell would it send us back to the nineteen fifties?"

"I don't know, they don't know, I believe they'll do their best to find out and send us back, and tomorrow I'm going to go into town and see if I can confirm that this IS actually the nineteen fifties and not some weird historical reenactment like you Americans are so fucking fond of. As it is, you are far from home, somewhere entirely unfamiliar, and these women have generously opened their home to you, offered you respect, reassurance, sustenance, and dry clothes, so why don't you grow the fuck up and try being polite? Even if this is a kidnapping, pissing off your captors is generally not the best idea. In addition to which, nobody would ever bother to kidnap me, so get off your fucking high horse and calm the fuck down."

Carol and Florence shared a look and Victor ambled over to Lou, sitting by her and panting happily as she glanced down and scritched him casually behind the ears. They let the silence stretch on before Florence smiled again, glancing between the two teenagers. 

"...If we're quite done with the sparring, cocoa? Carol, could you find our new guest another nightdress and show her up to the guest room too? Would you two mind sharing or would you prefer to sleep separately?"

"We can share."

That was Debbie's response, and far too quick, so Florence looked to Lou to confirm, letting her know without words that her choice would be respected. 

After a moment, Lou nodded. 

"Fine. Whatever's easiest."

"Debbie, if you would care to go up with Carol, you can change and I'll get your clothes washed since they're soaked through too, and I'll make some cocoa."

"Perhaps some cookies too, darling?"

Carol made the suggestion on her way past, and Florence smiled, catching her hand for a moment and kissing her chastely on the cheek. 

"What a wonderful idea."

Debbie froze in place, staring between the two of them, going back and forth, her mouth open once more. 

"...No frickin' way."

Florence sighed and rubbed her temples. It was already turning into a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor Furgo has joined William Snakespeare as one of the familiars of the family. He's not really a familiar. He's just an asshole. Sometimes we all need a protective asshole on our side, and bb!Lou is particularly in need. No he wasn't originally part of the plan, but it's hard to stop a Newfoundland doing what they want, so I gave up.
> 
> Quark, aka Victor Furgo, courtesy of Amaranthe.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sooo..." 

The word stretched on for far too long, and Lou tried to ignore the opening gambit from the other girl sat on the bed opposite her. Instead, Lou climbed into her own bed and looped her arms around her knees, watching Debbie. She seemed to be practically bouncing in place on the bed, her expression one of avid curiousity and fascination. Lou just about managed not to roll her eyes inwardly. Debbie sure could change her tone quickly when she found something she wanted. Lou wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"...When'd you end up here?"

"About half an hour before you did. Or at least before you ended up here. Logic would suggest that we might have both landed at more or less the same time. Where'd you say you came from?"

"New York."

Debbie was trying for a cool superiority with it, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder, but Lou wasn't buying it and after a moment in the gaze of those clear blue eyes, she deflated a little, glancing away. 

"...Well. Jersey, technically. But practically on Manhattan. What about you?"

"Sydney."

"...And you really were just...?"

"There and gone in a blink. Or more accurately a flash. And I know what it's like to be drugged, and this isn't it. If I wasn't drugged, you weren't either, and right now neither of us has a better explanation for the travel in space than magic, whether or not you want to believe the time travel part. Honestly not having seen outside this place, it's hard to be sure, but it makes sense to me stylistically speaking. No idea why, but who can tell."

Some of the fight went out of Debbie like this, and despite herself Lou found herself feeling just a little bit sympathetic. She knew about unhelpful responses to threats. But fighting was out, flight was impractical without knowing where she was running or where she was... she'd heard there were a couple of other responses. Freeze was one of them, that was another one she was pretty intimately acquainted with. Fawning was what kept her alive back home, along with fucking. That wasn't the technical scientific term, but it was what it meant. There was something about food in there too, but... well. She hadn't yet worked out how that was supposed to get you out of a shitty situation. 

Fighting was hard to do when met with kindness, and although she knew she hadn't exactly been polite when she arrived, she hadn't been willing to stand by while Debbie endangered both of them by alienating the only allies they had either. She wasn't sure if that was fawning. It was strange to have so much time to think about it. 

Debbie shifted awkwardly, and honestly Lou was glad the other girl wasn't looking at her the way a carnivore looks at a steak at an otherwise all-vegan buffet. She knew she was hot. She could own that. It was one of the few ways she kept control of her situation after all, but she wasn't sure how she felt about being looked at that way by another girl. Well. Deep down she knew. But everything was always more complicated than that, and Debbie seemed too messy to get mixed up with, quite apart from her own situation. 

Honestly Lou was looking forward to a break from that, however long this lasted. She knew she couldn't stay, not really, but knowing that wasn't enough to stop her wanting, just a little, one of those little whispers she couldn't even say to herself in the dark. 

Debbie was twisting the edge of the sheet between her fingers, and Lou could tell a nervous tic when she saw one. She watched for a few minutes in silence, then sighed. 

"Look. Even if we have been kidnapped, and I'm telling you there's no way in hell someone would go to all this trouble and expense or whatever to kidnap me. I could disappear and maybe one, two people at most would come looking and they'd give up after two days and find someone else to take my place. Maybe you're more important than I am, you sure seem to think so, but if we're both here... then I think that weighs pretty heavily to me in the not a kidnapping column. Either way, there's nothing we can do about it now. This place is warm and safe, that storm out there is wild, I got fed, you'll get fed, we're both... there are beds. We can sleep, and tomorrow, we can start figuring out this shit."

She hesitated, and Debbie was watching her and those soft brown eyes were somehow huge enough to drown in and Lou felt her heart twinge a little as much as she was trying to deny it. 

"...And for what it's worth, I promise I won't just leave you here."

Debbie paused a moment, then nodded, and her smile was fragile and brief, but real. The first honest emotion Lou had seen on her face since she arrived. 

"...Thank you."

There was a soft knock on the door and Lou looked to it. 

"Come in?"

Florence came in with a tray of cocoa and a plate of cookies, Carol on her heels with another nightdress which she handed to Debbie. 

"The bathroom's just down the hall if you want to change in private."

Debbie hesitated for a moment, and Lou could see her fighting with herself before she lowered her hackles and nodded, eyes down as she reached for the offered clothing. 

"...Thanks. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

Debbie disappeared to change while Florence set the mugs of cocoa and the plate of cookies on the little table between the beds. 

"...Now, I don't think we'll worry too much about brushing our teeth tonight. There's been enough excitement without worrying about that too."

Lou watched her a long moment, then nodded. 

"...Thanks. Really. You're... well. You're handling this pretty well. Try not to take her too personally. Or me either, actually. We're just scared. No excuse to be rude, but..."

Florence smiled warmly. 

"Thank you. I understand, but I do appreciate your... well, apology? I suppose?"

Lou nodded, one sharp jerk of her head. 

"Yeah. Apology. I am... well. I don't apologise for my reaction, but I do apologise for my choice of words."

Florence reached out hesitantly, and Lou watched her, making no effort to move away as Florence gently rested her hand on the girl's shoulder for a moment.

"Thank you."

As she pulled her hand away, Lou tilted her head into the touch and Florence ruffled her hair with a bright smile which Lou returned. It had been... a concession, but it had been worth it to see Florence's face light up. And besides, head pets felt nice, even if she didn't like to admit that she was vunerable or needed anything. 

"...Would you... like a hug?"

Lou considered a moment, then shook her head. 

"...Thanks but... no. It doesn't... wouldn't feel right. Thanks though. Maybe another time?"

Florence nodded and stepped back without arguing about it or trying to force it on her. 

Lou felt an ache in her chest again when Florence stepped away because honestly in the last hour Florence had acted more like a mother than her own mother had in years. It wasn't right, though, and she couldn't get attached, and she didn't need it, but... fuck was it nice to have... to have someone care about her, without asking anything in return, just for a little while. She wasn't sure if it would stay true for long, but fuck she wanted it to. 

Debbie returned and climbed wordlessly into the other bed, and Florence and Carol smiled at them both. 

"...Alright, goodnight. We're just down the hall if you need anything."

"Yeah. Thanks. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

~

Florence closed the door quietly behind her and let out a sigh of relief as she stepped away down the hall, brought up short by Carol, waiting, there, just right there, and Florence held herself stiff for a heartbeat before she simply melted into her, feeling Carol's arms come around her waist, steady and soft and warm. The silk of her blonde curls tickled Florence's nose as she rested her head on Carol's shoulder and inhaled the smell of her perfume. She wasn't sure when Carol had become such a touchstone of comfort, someone she could lean on, literally and metaphorically, but the trust between them had been hard-won and Florence treasured it. 

They stayed there for one beat, then two, then three... and eventually Carol shifted away, brushing a soft kiss to Florence's forehead. 

"...Is it time for bed, love?"

Florence's smile was a little fragile as she stood back and nodded wearily, shoulders drooping a little. 

"...I think so."

Carol nodded and took her hand, leading her down the hall and into their own room, closing the door behind them with a final click which felt so very comforting, and once more guiding Florence into her embrace, swaying gently from side to side. 

"...It's alright. You're doing so well. I'll handle the clean up in the morning. Would you like anything? Cocoa? Something stronger?"

Florence hesitated, musing, then tilted her head with a small smile playing on her lips, one eyebrow arched. 

"...I wouldn't say no to a brandy?"

It was a small reminder of the night they'd met, one of those little rituals whenever a day had been particularly harrowing for some reason, and one they both cherished.

Carol chuckled and clicked her fingers, handing Florence a glass of amber liquid, beaming, and Florence took a sip to savour the burn before she smiled with a gasp. 

"Oh... mmm... perfect, thank you. You are getting very good at this."

Carol grinned mischeviously and clicked her fingers again, a flame dancing at the tips as if on a lighter before she closed her fist again and it vanished, miming blowing it out. 

"...I'm not bad, but I don't hold a candle to you. However, I do have a very good teacher."

Florence laughed. 

"You're too kind."

"Not at all..."

Carol took the glass from her and set it on the bedside table, once more taking Florence's hand and urging her closer, turning the silver-haired witch so she could begin unbuttoning her dress, sliding one hand inside and stroking gently over the plane of exposed, pale skin. She nuzzled in behind Florence's ear to press a kiss over her pulse point, smiling to herself at the way it jumped, hands resting on Florence's waist inside her dress and then sliding around over her belly to lean her back against Carol's body, offering shelter and strength, just for this little moment. 

"...Thank you."

"Mmm... thank me? Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

Florence was leaning back against her, eyes half-closed, and Carol smiled, nuzzling her jaw and pressing a swift kiss to her cheek as she finally broke the spell and returned to undressing her lover, easing her nightdress down over her head. 

"No... not this time. I have a lot to thank you for, Florence. Even if I spent the rest of my life saying it, it would never really be enough, never really do it justice... so I'm afraid you'll just have to accept the times I can. This is one of them though. Thank you. I love you."

Florence half-turned to Carol as she tilted her head, removing her earrings and tugging the pins out of her hair, letting it cascade down over her shoulders in a way that always left Carol feeling just a little breathless. 

"I love you too... but I'm still not sure what you're thanking me for?"

Carol stepped forward to take both her hands and kiss her, shifting the balance of the conversation between them again to press their lips together before she stepped back and began to undress herself. 

"...For your strength and courage, for your kindness, for your patience... for the magic you've shared with me... you saved me, two years ago, you saved me. And now I'm watching you save someone else... two other people. This time I get to be a part of it, but... knowing you better now? Loving you? Like this? I can't... thank you for sharing it with me, I suppose. Thank you for sharing yourself with me."

Florence's answering smile was luminous, a light flush dusting her cheekbones and a sparkle in her eye as she picked Carol's nightdress up from the bed and held it out to her. 

"...What can I say? You were the only one who wanted to share in that."

Carol shrugged and rolled her stockings down carefully. 

"...Then the rest of the world is stupid. I can't say I'm complaining because it means I'm lucky enough to have this with you, to share this with you... but it's the rest of the world that's blind, love, and nothing that's wrong with you."

Florence shook her head as she folded the sheets back and climbed into bed, snuggling down and waiting patiently for Carol to join her, but she was smiling all the same. 

"...Thank you love. I might not agree with you, but... it helps to be seen through another's eyes sometimes. Anyway. It's been a very long day. Come to bed. I think we both need it."

And Carol went.


	6. Chapter 6

Morning dawned, and Lou woke with a start. The transition to wakefulness was always abrupt. It was a defence mechanism she had learned the hard way, to become aware of her surroundings as quickly as possible and retain control. 

The bed was a surprise. It was much nicer than... well, any bed she'd ever slept in, and that ruled out any of the places she usually ended up after a night she didn't remember. She was also wearing a nightdress she had certainly never seen before. All of this was new, but it didn't feel... unsafe. The room was old-fashioned, and the other bed with a brunette head pillowed just above a quilt in soft shades of purple was a surprise. Lou kept quiet, not wanting to wake her. She was very good at not drawing attention to herself in situations like this. 

She crossed silently over to the window and looked out, flashes of memory from last night running through her mind. 1950s America... it had seemed impossible, as much as anything had seemed impossible in the throes of a storm that fierce and exhaustion. Now it seems... well, still impossible, but there's yet more evidence weighing in the favour of it being true. 

She crossed to the door, opening it and grateful for the lack of squeaky floorboards as she explored the house and then padded downstairs in search of breakfast. 

The kitchen was just off the hall, with a black and white tiled floor and pretty purple tiles around the walls. A familiar figure was standing in the kitchen, and Lou froze in the doorway, unsure whether she was about to be in trouble for being out of bed or not. 

Florence turned around and smiled softly. 

"Good morning, how did you sleep?"

"Oh, uh... yeah. Good. Thanks. So this is all... real."

"I'm afraid so... would you like some breakfast?"

"...What do you have?"

Florence paused, considering. 

"...Eggs or porridge, or I could make some pancakes?"

"I don't want to put you to any trouble?"

Florence smiled. 

"Don't worry. It's no trouble at all. Carol likes pancakes, and I was thinking of making some anyway. Would you like some?"

Lou stepped hesitantly across the threshold in bare feet, nodding. 

"...Yeah. Please."

"And some coffee?"

"Yes please."

Florence nodded, turning away to pour some coffee, and handing the mug over. 

Lou wrapped her hand close around it, taking a sip, eyes not leaving the witch. 

"...Did you want some milk? Or sugar?"

"No thanks. I take it black. It's just... easier."

Florence nodded, turning back to the counter and then glancing over her shoulder. 

"You know... you can sit down? You don't have to... hover?"

"I don't want to be in the way."

"You're not. How's Debbie this morning?"

Lou shrugged, perching on a chair, knees up and braced against the table, making herself as small as she could. 

"I don't know. She wasn't awake when I got up but she didn't wake me up in the night or anything so I guess fine."

"Translocation magic can often take it out of a person, regardless of circumstance, and you came a very long way."

Florence was smiling gently again, and Lou nodded, keeping her face carefully blank of any uncertainty. 

"...So... about that... have you worked out.... what happened to us yet?"

Florence sighed and shook her head, leaving the pancake mix to rest as she took a seat opposite Lou. 

"...No. I'm afraid I haven't. But today I will begin trying to find out as much as I can."

"...And... I'll have to go back?"

Florence hesitated, then set her mug down. 

"I... that will... I cannot answer that yet. Would you want to?"

"...Obviously."

Lou buried her face in her mug, knowing she had hesitated just a little too long, but Florence was too kind to say anything about it. 

"Well. Let's see what my research turns up. Shall I make those pancakes?"

"...Can I help?"

Florence's answering smile was warm and kind, and Lou fought to ignore how nice it felt to be looked at that way. 

"...Maybe tomorrow? You've had a very long... day. But I'd welcome your help tomorrow. Help yourself to more coffee if you'd like it?"

Lou nodded, and sat quietly back to watch as Florence turned back to the stove and began to cook the pancakes. 

They had been sitting there for about ten minutes, and Lou was on her second mug of coffee with a plate of pancakes in front of her, drizzled in syrup, when Carol came down. Where Florence's dressing gown was purple, hers was a pale pink, and Lou watched as she walked in and Florence set a cup of coffee out to her side without even looking for Carol to pick up. She leaned against the counter next to where Florence was at the stove, gazing at her fondly. Florence glanced up and smiled, a secret little smile, full of love and trust, and Carol leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. 

"Good morning..."

"And good morning to you too, love..." Carol turned her luminous smile on Lou, and the girl shifted a little in her seat, watching. "Good morning Lou, did you sleep well?"

"...Yeah, thanks."

"Perhaps you can go and see if our other little visitor is awake yet, love?"

Florence suggested, and Carol nodded, setting her coffee down and once more giving Florence a parting kiss on the cheek as she turned towards the stairs. 

~

A soft knock on the door woke Debbie from her slumber, and she instantly pulled the blankets up higher, all the way to her chin. 

A moment later, she heard the door open. 

"Debbie? Are you awake?"

"...Yeah."

She sat up, not wanting to be caught off guard, and pulled the sheets up to her chin again. 

Carol was in the doorway in her dressing gown, smiling gently. 

"Good morning... we're just making breakfast, would you like to come down and join us?"

"...Is Lou down there already?"

"Yes she is. She didn't want to wake you when she came down," Carol hesitated a moment, tilting her head, "...May I come in?"

"...Sure. It's your place."

Carol smiled and pushed herself off the doorframe, coming in to sit on the end of Debbie's bed. 

"...Actually it's Florence's place. I suppose I live here now too but it doesn't... I haven't quite gotten used to that yet. She lived here long before me, on her own, and now... I'm trying to find where I fit in it."

"...Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm a guest here too, in some ways. I know it can be difficult. But this is honestly one of the safest places in the world, as far as I'm concerned, and it can be for you too, as long as you need it to be."

"...I don't need a safe place. I've already got one. It's where I was. I just want to go home."

"...Of course. And today I'm sure work will begin on discovering how you got here, and on sending you back there. But in the meantime, you are safe here. You and Lou both. I know you might not believe that yet. I know you don't really have any reason to. But you are safe here, for as long as you remain."

Debbie swallowed, her knuckles white in the sheets as she felt tears bubbling in her chest which she refused to shed. 

"...Yeah. Well. Thanks. But I don't need anything from you."

Carol nodded, rising from the bed and once more turning from the door. 

"I'm sure you don't. But if you want them, there are fresh pancakes downstairs with your name on them. After breakfast we'll find you some clothes, and then... well, we'll see how the day goes."

And Debbie watched her go with her arms around her knees, trying to tell herself that everything was okay.


	7. Chapter 7

Lou looked up as the huge Newfoundland heaved his bulk into view, and leaned over where she was curled on her chair to scritch him on the back of the neck. 

"...Morning Victor."

"Boof."

Florence hid a smile. 

"He likes you."

Lou looked up, eyebrows raised beneath her messy fringe. 

"What?"

"He likes you," Florence smiled and gestured at the dog, "He's not usually this... sociable."

"He's a good boy. I can tell."

"He's certainly something."

"So, why a dog? Don't witches usually have cats?"

"I have a snake too. He's been with me a while. Victor was just... something was missing somehow."

Lou nodded as if in understanding.

"That's what people do, right? Move in together? Get a dog? Can't get married or anything but..."

"Has that changed? Where you are?"

Lou shook her head. 

"Nah. Not really. It's not... it's more tolerated? But marriage is off the cards. Don't really see that changing any time soon. Not where I am anyway."

The girl stared down, fingers working deep in the fur at the Newfoundland's neck as he closed his eyes in approval. 

"So... you've woken up and you're still here. That can't be... I could understand being a little disappointed by that?"

Lou glanced up, and after a moment shook her head. 

"Not really. I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't a dream. Maybe I got hit on the head, or a bad batch or something, maybe I'm in a coma somewhere. But this is a nice dream. It's fuc-... it's weird, but it's nice."

Florence smiled. 

"...Thank you," she pushed herself up from the table, "Would you like some more coffee?"

Lou shook her head. 

"No, thanks though."

"What would you like to do today?"

"Honestly... I'd kinda like to see the town a little? You said maybe we could... I dunno what people do? Go grab a milkshake or something?"

Florence smiled. 

"Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. We'll have to find some different clothes for you, or failing that, conjure some, but you're very welcome to go and explore the town. Perhaps Lewis could go with you?"

"Lewis?"

"Jonathan's nephew. They live next door. I think you were in the bath last night when Jonathan came around."

"That's where Debbie arrived?"

"That's where Debbie arrived."

Lou nodded slowly. 

"...How old's Lewis anyway?"

"He's eleven. A fine young man."

"He lives with his uncle?"

"His parents died in a car crash two years ago. That's when he moved here."

"Wow. Poor kid."

Florence nodded slowly. 

"Of course, you're welcome to go alone if you want, but I thought... not as an escort, but as someone who is more familiar with the town, and with how things work? It might... well, I'm sure you're both more than capable of getting into trouble, but it might help reduce the chances?"

She smiled, and Lou slowly smiled back, understanding that Florence was teasing her. 

"...Probably a good idea."

"Excellent. I'll see if I can find anything out about what might have brought you both back here. It's certainly unusual. From the same date, but from such geographically different places... and there was nothing obviously strange about the storm either. I might not find anything out just yet, but I will do my best. And I promise we'll get you home."

"...Yeah. I... thanks." Lou hesitated awkwardly, then gestured at the stairs. "I'll just... go wash up and stuff..."

Florence stood and cleared the table. 

"Of course. I'll bring some clothes up for both of you. I'm afraid that girls your age really do spend more time in skirts and dresses. I think trousers are catching on in the big cities, but beyond that... I know it's perhaps not how you would choose to dress, but I'd be wary of attracting more attention than you are already going to?"

Lou hesitated, halfway to the door, then nodded, one short, resigned jerk of the head. 

Florence paused. 

"...Perhaps ask Carol, actually? She knows more about that sort of thing than me, and I might be projecting out of date sentiments. She's also... less... wary than I am about some things. Perhaps younger women get away with it more. If you see her upstairs could you ask her to come down?"

Lou nodded. 

"Yeah. I'll do that. Thanks again Florence," she hesitated again and glanced back over her shoulder, "Is it... okay if I call you Florence? I guess people didn't usually do that kind of thing then... now... uh..."

Florence smiled warmly. 

"Yes, you may call me Florence. Thank you for asking Lou."

Lou nodded again and disappeared up the stairs. 

~

Carol appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, and Florence leaned back into her as Carol wrapped her arms around Florence's waist. She pressed a light kiss behind Florence's ear. 

"Lou mentioned you wanted to see me?"

"We need some clothes for them... I thought... well, last night I suggested that perhaps Lou might want to go out into town to confirm for herself that we weren't lying... and then... well, and then Debbie turned up, and there's a lot to recommend both of them... well, seeing it for themselves."

"...Alone? Really?"

Florence chuckled at Carol's scepticism. 

"...No, I had thought that Lewis could perhaps go with them. The problem that we then run into is that neither of them is really appropriately dressed for a trip out on the town, and I realised that my awareness of what girls their age are wearing is... perhaps a little out-dated. I thought you might be able to make more recommendations."

"Mmm... well, what do we have?"

"Precious little, darling. I don't think my clothes will fit them, and nor will yours. We don't have anything, and so we'll have to use our..."

Florence held a hand up, purple sparkles dancing around her fingers, and Carol laughed, kissing her again, free and spontaeous and joyful. 

"It's wonderful seeing you take such joy in your power, you know? I know I met you after they had returned but I think... I have a little sense now of what it must have been like, and from talking to Jonathan and knowing you... it's just... well, it's just nice."

"I did say that skirts or dresses were far more common and perhaps appropriate, but then I realised I was perhaps being a little out-dated and thought I should ask you."

Carol mused for a moment.

"It's certainly the case that capris are becoming more... accepted, even outside the home, and jeans do seem popular among teenagers particularly... I've seen more pictures lately in the papers and the magazines and some of those girls look fairly respectable... Perhaps..." She waved her hands, conjuring some blouses and shirts, two pairs of jeans with narrow legs and wide cuffs at the bottom, "Something like these?"

Florence inspected them, eyes wide, turning them over. 

"...Yes, I think this could work? Let's see what our guests think, shall we? But these are really... they look perfectly sized too, how did you...?"

Carol grinned and blew over her fingertips. 

"I am a woman of many talents."

Florence laughed and picked up the stack of clothing to take it upstairs. 

"Minette, that much I already knew."


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you serious? We're wearing this?"

Carol remained in the doorway as Debbie and Lou inspected the offered clothes, perfectly calm. She had offered to take responsibility for it, understanding that Florence might be a little on edge about them going out. Carol agreed that it was by far the best way to prove to the girls that they really had come back in time, but her experience of Debbie so far brought out her protective side in a way she had never expected. She knew really that Florence didn't need protecting, but as she'd fallen deeper and deeper in love, she had come to accept that a lover with a past came with responsibilities as much as privileges. 

"Yes. You're wearing that. It's not so different from what you arrived in, but it will draw less attention."

Lou was looking at the clothes from under her messy fringe, and glanced up at Carol, reminding her far more of a turtle about to retreat into its shell than something that might attack. She was certainly defensive, but so far it was taking a different form. 

"...Where's Florence?"

Carol smiled, a little bittersweet about it. 

"She's a little busy right now. She has some work to do, talking to some friends and trying to find out what brought you here."

Lou nodded. 

"Alright. Thanks for these. They're pretty nice."

Carol smiled. 

"You're welcome. You can keep them. Come downstairs when you're ready and we'll go get Lewis. I'll give you each a dollar."

Debbie's head flew up again. 

"One measly dollar? Are you kidding me?!"

Lou elbowed her hard in the ribs and nodded at Carol. 

"Thank you. You don't have to do that."

Carol smiled warmly. 

"You're welcome." She shifted her attention to Debbie, still careful to keep her voice calm and kind, "A dollar will buy you a lot just now. It'll be enough for you to get a milkshake and something to eat. Some pancakes, or a piece of pie, or a sandwich. Even a hamburger. Whatever you like. Eat lunch out, see the town. Don't stay out too late please."

"When do we need to be back by?"

"I'd say four?"

Debbie rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else, Lou elbowed her again. 

"Okay, no problem. In case we get lost or whatever, what's the address here?"

Carol smiled, "We're at the end of Main Street here, so it should be more or less a straight line, depending on how much exploring you do. 102 Main Street."

"Okay. Thanks. We'll be down soon."

Carol smiled and nodded, closing the door behind her and leaving them to it. She went downstairs and knocked quietly on the door to what had become the work room. She heard Florence's voice from inside, quiet and slightly muffled. 

"Just a moment... come in?"

Carol opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her and glancing at the worktable. Florence had set up a mirror, but it didn't show her reflection, rather an ethereally beautiful woman with waves of silver-gold hair and timeless eyes. 

"...Hello."

Florence smiled. 

"Galadriel, this is my... this is Carol."

The woman inclined her head, and Carol could see a silver filigree crown set on her head, beautiful and intricate, yet somehow simple. 

"I am most pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Carol replied swiftly, offering a slight bow in return. She could feel this woman's power, even through the mirror.

"Perhaps one day we shall meet in the same plane."

"I... would like that very much."

Galadriel smiled kindly, then returned her attention to Florence. 

"As to your question... I can think of a few powers which might be capable of that sort of thing. I shall consult my scrolls, and let you know what I find. I might suggest too that you contact Vizas. I know he is... from the other side, as it were, but he might have some useful insight that we lack into doings on that plane."

Florence nodded. 

"That's a good idea, thank you. I'll contact him directly."

Galadriel smiled. 

"Perhaps for now, then, I should let you go. I hope it will not go so long before we speak again next time."

Florence offered a slight bow of her head. "I'm sure it won't..." she smiled as the connection closed and Galadriel disappeared, then stood to take Carol's hands and kiss her cheek. 

"How did they take the clothes?"

"More or less as expected... I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help?"

Florence smiled. 

"Go and give them a dollar each and take them next door to meet Lewis, then come back and there is some reading which might give us a few hints, if you're certain you don't mind?"

Carol smiled and kissed her cheek, then, unable to stop herself, leaned to kiss her lips too before turning for the door. 

"I'd be delighted."

~

"So, how are you settling in?"

Both Lou and Debbie regarded the boy with undisguised scepticism, though this didn't seem to faze him overmuch. 

"I know it can be a little weird when you first arrive here. I haven't really been here that long, all things considered. Almost two years. But I like it here."

Lou nodded.

"Yeah, Florence mentioned how you ended up here. I'm sorry."

Lewis shrugged a little. 

"I mean, I'm sorry too, but... Uncle Jonathan and Mrs Zimmermann take very good care of me. I miss my parents a lot. I always will. But this is home now too and that's okay. I've got friends here and... I'm happy."

Debbie frowned a little. 

"How old are you?"

Lewis smiled. 

"I'm twelve. I'm in sixth grade, and in September I'll be starting at the junior high school here. I'm kind of excited, to be honest."

Before Debbie could say anything too cutting, Lou cut in again. 

"That's cool. Good luck."

"Do you like school?"

Lou hesitated. 

"I... haven't been able to go for a while. But I liked it when I could."

Debbie shrugged, kicking the dirt a little. 

"School's okay I guess. Mostly I just like it for my friends."

Lewis nodded, accepting both of their answers without any kind of judgement. 

"I guess that makes sense. I know school isn't fun sometimes, even I don't like it all the time, but I do like learning things. I love words. They're a pretty big part of my magic, actually."

Debbie stared at him, her lip curling a little, and Lou shifted forward just a little bit to put herself between Debbie and Lewis. 

"...You think you're magic too, huh?"

Lewis shrugged. 

"I don't think. I know. Anyone can learn, you know? But it takes a lot of study and most people don't really learn till they're adults. It gave me something to focus on when I came here though, so I'm glad Uncle Jonathan let me try. Anyway. Shall we head into town? Mrs Aird said she'd given you two some money, so why don't I give you a tour then we could get lunch at the diner? They do /amazing/ milkshakes."

Lou glanced at Debbie, one hand still resting on the brunette's arm, and then back to Lewis. 

"...Yeah. Thanks. That'd be good."

She became aware of the fact that under her fingers Debbie was shaking, and when she looked at Debbie questioningly, the brunette just shook her head, jaw set firm, head held high... but there was a fear in her eyes that verged on terror. Lou could feel it in her gut too, but it wasn't so fundamental for her, this fear that perhaps all of this really was real and not a bad dream. Debbie looked on the verge of falling apart, and despite herself, Lou felt for her. She took a deep breath, and moved to take Debbie's hand, interweaving their fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze. She gestured with her head in the direction Lewis had taken down the path, and tried for a confident smile. She knew how to project confidence, even if it wasn't something she really felt. 

"C'mon. We'll be fine."

"We?"

Lou grinned. 

"Yeah. We. 'Less you don't want to be a we?"

Debbie took a deep breath and shook her head, finally stepping out with Lou down the path after Lewis. 

"...Nah. I guess we sounds good. You know. As a temporary thing. Just for now."

Lou nodded in faux-seriousness, but she could already feel Debbie's shaking gradually easing off. 

"Yeah. Just for now."

They closed the gate behind them, stepping out onto the sidewalk where Lewis was waiting, and Debbie offered a fragile grimace that almost passed for a smile. 

"...Yeah. Just for now."

She squeezed Lou's hand a little tighter, and the two of them followed Lewis down the street towards town.


	9. Chapter 9

The town was actually a pretty nice place. As cars drove past and they got the chance to see other people though, Lou was rapidly coming to the conclusion that this wasn't bullshit and they were actually back in the 1950s. The whole thing made no sense whatsoever, but she was prepared to accept it, and really it was no worse than being back home. In some ways it was quite a lot better. 

Lewis was carrying on at a decent pace, pointing out landmarks of interest, and Lou could see the diner sign up ahead. She had to admit that a milkshake and maybe a burger or something sounded pretty good right about now. She could feel the silver dollar Carol had handed her in her pocket, and wondered whether they really were right about the prices. Then again, they'd been right about everything else so far.

As they started getting further from the house, seeing more and more confirmation that this was really happening, really real, though, Debbie started slowing up. 

Lou looked at her, but Debbie didn't look back, eyes fixed ahead as she put one foot in front of the other, though she was starting to look more and more like a prisoner walking to the gallows than a teenager heading for a lunch with friends at the diner. 

There was a little corner shop next to the diner, with one of those signs outside that had the front page of the newspaper on, and Lou glanced at it. Huh. Okay. Definitely May 1955 then. Well. She'd made a life in worse circumstances than this, even if not as weird, and she was already feeling like she might have a few adults in her life now who could be trusted. Carol seemed okay, but mostly Lou figured Carol was okay because Florence trusted her, and there was something about Florence that resonated with Lou on a very fundamental level. She didn't really get it, but she'd learned long ago to trust those instincts rather than questioning them. 

Debbie stopped with her, but where to Lou it had been an object of passing curiousity and nothing more, Debbie was frozen to the spot and Lou could feel her pulse leaping. 

Lewis pulled open the door to the diner with the jangle of a friendly bell, and called, "C'mon!"

Lou shrugged and moved to follow him, gently tugging Debbie along with her, but Debbie didn't move. 

"Deb. C'mon. Food?"

There was a flicker of something, and Debbie turned to follow her. 

Lou watched her carefully, stepping back because there was definitely something about Debbie that wasn't right. 

Lewis was still in the doorway, frowning. He took a little step towards them. 

"...Are you okay?"

Debbie took a step towards him and for one moment Lou thought they were going to be just fine, but Debbie stopped again and started shaking her head, slow at first but getting faster and faster, her hair a mane around her head as she took a step back, half-turning her body away.

Lou stepped towards her, reaching for her, because she recognised this, she knew this very well, Debbie had been on the edge of fight or flight since she got here, and evidently after all the fighting now was the time for flight. 

"I'm sorry," the words came out almost as though Debbie had barely processed them herself, "I can't- I'm sorry-"

She wheeled away and sprinted back up the street, Lou hot on her heels with Lewis following behind. 

Her lungs were burning as she could see the house up ahead, and Debbie crashed into the door without a second thought, relieved despite herself when it opened, relieved that she had somewhere that was almost familiar to run to, and it slammed back into the wall and Debbie ran headlong into Carol. 

Carol had come running when she heard the door, and when Debbie crashed into her, she caught her instinctively. 

"Debbie? Debbie... look at me, Debbie?" She stroked back some of Debbie's hair until she could see her face, Debbie's hands catching her wrists, clinging on tight, her face full of fear and panic and absolutely desolate. Carol felt her heart break, and she moved to hug Debbie close. This time, the girl didn't fight back. Instead, she buried her head against Carol's chest and sobbed, as Carol's arms came close around her. "...Oh, oh sweetheart..."

Debbie was sobbing too hard to speak, hardly able to catch her breath, and she was barely aware of Carol gently guiding her through to the living room, sitting down on the sofa with Debbie still in her arms. Carol focused on doing what she could to calm things, letting Debbie cry, gently rubbing her back and stroking her hair, trying to keep her grounded. After a moment's thought, she conjured a glass of water and put it nearby, then conjured a handkerchief and offered it, still gently rubbing circles on Debbie's back as the girl blew her nose. 

Carol took the handkerchief back, cleaning it with a wave and returning it to Debbie. The crying was showing no signs as yet of abating, but the intensity of it was easing off. Carol offered the glass of water, and Debbie took it in two shaking hands, sipping slowly, dropping her gaze, ashamed to meet Carol's eyes. 

"...I'm sorry..." she said eventually, soft and shaky, and she set the glass back down on the table and swiped at her eyes as she felt another wave of tears bubble up. 

"Sweethea-... Debbie, it's alright. You have nothing to apologise for."

She sniffled. 

"I do though. I was rude. I'm just... there's not really an excuse for that, and I'm sorry."

"You're scared."

Debbie hesitated, then nodded. 

"Yeah. I..." she twisted her now empty hands in her shirt, ignoring the way it wrinkled. Her voice was small as she continued, "I want to go home..."

"Oh lo-... Oh Debbie... we are working to get you home, I promise. We will get you home. And until we do, you are safe here, I promise." Carol tilted her head a little, watching the girl who suddenly seemed very young. "Is that... all that's upset you?"

Debbie swiped at her nose with the back of her hand, fingers curled into fists now, and clenched her jaw. 

Carol waited patiently, and after a moment, all the fight went out of her again. 

"...I wanna go home, except that home isn't... really home, y'know? I don't know, that probably doesn't make any sense," she laughed harshly and Carol felt her heart ache. 

"...Actually, I do have some idea of how that feels," she hesitated, wondering whether to explain... but it seemed like a rare opportunity perhaps to get through to her, and so she took the risk. "...I was married, before this. Before I met Florence, I was married. To a man. And he was a good man, really, or... good enough. There are plenty who are worse. But we weren't... well-suited to each other. I tried, but... anyway. He and I... we had a daughter... have a daughter. And he went out to work every day and I mostly stayed at home with my daughter, but sometimes I went to the city to go shopping, or I went to see friends... my best friend, often, but... every time I went out I knew I was going home to... somewhere that wasn't really home. Somewhere I didn't fit, somewhere I was... wrong. Somewhere I wasn't really wanted, where often I felt they would be better off without me. I'm sure what you mean is something different. But I know what it's like to have a home which looks... perfect on the outside, and yet to know that you don't belong there. And it hurts every time you go home and are reminded, and it hurts every time like ripping open a cut that wasn't quite healed, and it... wears on you. I know what that's like."

Debbie was watching her, and much to Carol's surprise, she seemed to be listening. As Carol finished what she had to say, Debbie sniffed again, and took another swipe at her eyes. 

"...I'm sorry. That's hard. But yeah. That's how it feels. And I wanna belong there, I wanna be part of that family, but... I'm not. And nothing I try is... the right thing. Nothing is good enough, and I can't... I don't wanna hide the fact that I'm into girls as well as boys. I mean, boys are pretty don't get me wrong but at this age... they kinda suck. They're pretty terrible and I just... girls are... but that's never going to be... so on top of everything else, nothing I do will ever make up for the fact that I'm not the daughter they wanted." Debbie pulled a face, "They want this perfect daughter and... I'm not her. I'm never going to be her. And every time I walk through that door it feels like a knife through the heart to be reminded. And I'm supposed to miss it, and I do, but I also... feel bad for being so fucking relieved that I don't have to walk through that door anymore right now." 

Carol nodded, and tentatively reached for Debbie's hand, allowing herself a breath when Debbie didn't immediately pull her hand away. 

Debbie stared at their hands for a moment, then looked up to meet Carol's eyes again, her own red-rimmed. 

"...I'm glad you're happier now."

Carol smiled. 

"I am. It wasn't an easy road to get here, not for either of us. But that's not my story to tell. Either way, I'm here now, and I have a home which feels like a real home, and I am loved and I am happy. I'm certain that one day you will be too."

Debbie swallows and sniffed again. 

"...You think?"

"I do."

Debbie nodded slowly and ducked her head again. 

"...I'd still... I'd like to apologise. And I'd like to apologise to Florence too. You've both been... incredibly patient. A lot more than I had any right to expect. A lot more than either of us had any right to expect but Lou is... well. She's been handling it better than me. I guess I was... I mean I am... just scared."

"And that makes complete sense. It's perfectly alright to be scared. And I forgive you. I'm sure Florence will too."

Debbie swallowed and wiped her nose again, offering a half-smile when Carol handed her a handkerchief exasperatedly. 

"Thanks. So uh... you have a daughter?"

Carol smiled.

"I do. Her name is Rindy. She's six."

"Does she live with her dad, or...?"

"We share custody, but at the moment she is staying with her father, yes. Everything ended up amicably in the end."

Something about the way she said it suggested the path hadn't been that smooth, but Debbie felt like she'd already caused enough harm without prodding at another soft spot just yet.

The door to the living room opened, and Lou appeared in it, Lewis just over her shoulder. She looked between Debbie and Carol, ice-blue eyes lingering on Debbie's, asking questions without words. 

Debbie sniffed but gave the slightest nod, trying to force down the blush that was threatening to rise to her cheeks at Lou being so protective of her. She tried to tell herself it was just that they were in this together and nothing more than that. She was past trying to ignore the fact that Lou was honestly the most beautiful person she had ever seen, but right now didn't really seem the time to act on it. 

"...You okay?"

"...Yeah. Yeah. I am. Or I will be. Uh... sorry about that. I... sorry."

Lou stepped into the room and squeezed her shoulder. 

"...'S okay. As long as you're okay now."

Debbie nodded and leaned to look past Lou at Lewis. 

"I'm sorry."

Lewis smiled. 

"That's okay. I can't imagine how scary this must all be for you. I'd be happy to show you the town another time if you'd like?"

Debbie sniffed again and nodded, smiling damply. 

"...Yeah. Yeah. I'd like that. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll be heading home now Mrs Aird, it was nice to meet you both!"

"Goodbye, Lewis! Thank you again!"

Lewis waved and left, closing the door neatly behind him and leaving the women in silence. 

It was Debbie who broke it, glancing up at Lou first, then at Carol. 

"Hey uh... I know... I know I've been a brat and I kinda don't deserve it but... could I... maybe have another one of those hugs?"

Carol smiled and nodded, embracing Debbie gently and feeling the way the girl tensed at first before she relaxed and hugged her back, clinging on tight and taking another shaky breath. 

"...Okay. So where do we go from here?" Lou asked, still carefully neutral.

Carol looked each of the girls in the eyes and took a deep breath, trying for a reassuring smile. 

"Now we wait and see what Florence has found out."


	10. Chapter 10

When the hour rolled around that signalled it was time to start making dinner, Carol glanced at the clock, and at the work room door. There had been no sign of Florence since the girls had come back, and she was a little concerned. For the moment Lou and Debbie seemed content enough in their room, or at least, she hadn't heard any screaming and after the earlier... incident, the two of them had gone in there together and shut the door. 

Carol rose from the couch and crossed to the work room door, knocking quietly on it. She knew in theory it was possible to send Florence a message with her magic, or even just project her astral voice, but this seemed somehow less intrusive and she wasn't sure just how delicate a stage of research Florence was at. Both of them were generally good about communicating when they were working a magic which shouldn't be interrupted, and giving an idea of how long it should take, but this was something that was completely new to both of them. She could hear voices deep in conversation from the inside again, but it didn't sound like the woman she had met earlier. 

"Just a moment, Vizas... Come in?"

Carol opened the door and leaned in. This time the figure in the mirror was a large black man, his eyes glowing like fire with heavy scarring over his face. 

Florence smiled fondly at her. 

"Hello minette, is everything alright? I thought I heard some commotion earlier, but I was in the middle of something. I didn't sense any major distress."

"Oh, yes. Don't worry. I'll tell you all about that later. I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's getting to be time for dinner. Shall I take care of it?"

Florence nodded apologetically. 

"...I am sorry, I know it should be my turn really but-"

Carol smiled warmly. 

"Don't worry darling, I'll take care of it. I couldn't do what you're doing now, and it needs to be done. Shall I save you a plate you can warm when you're ready, or will you join us?"

Florence glanced back at the mirror, and the... man, at least Carol thought it was a man, smiled warmly. 

"You can trust that the Lady Galadriel and I will do what we can in the meantime, and I know how much you have been bending your energies on this. Eat dinner, relax a while. The work will still be there in the morning, and things might be clearer for some rest."

"You don't think anything else is likely to happen during the night?"

"From what you've said, and the traces, or lack thereof that we've found, I'm reasonably confident it was primarily a translocation spell. It might be wise after dinner, if the girls in question are amenable, to test for any remaining traces of magic both to identify the spellcaster, and to get a sense of the intention."

Florence nodded, then glanced back to Carol. 

"Oh, please forgive me, I've been terribly rude... Carol, this is Vizas Marr, an old... friend, I suppose?"

The man chuckled, low and warm, there was an undercurrent of dark power to it but Carol couldn't sense any menace. 

"I think that would be reasonable at this point. I am honoured to be classed among your friends, although there are those who might feel you keep disreputable company."

"I've spent my whole life in disreputable company, Vizas, I don't see why I should stop now."

Florence was smiling, the spikiness much like her relationship with Jonathan, and it was so wonderful to see her personality coming out like that. Carol was so proud of her, and she had some sense of the woman Florence had been before everything that had happened. Watching her return to that was like flowers blooming in Spring, and at moments like this loving her felt like a privilege. 

"Now, don't speak about your lady like that. Carol, a pleasure. I've heard a great deal about you, it's a delight to meet you in person, as it were."

Unsure quite how to react, Carol offered the same slight bow she had offered Galadriel that morning, and felt herself flushing a little as the man returned it. Stepping further into the work room she realised he was, in fact, shirtless. 

His glowing eyes were on her, though a smile still rested on features that were handsome beneath the scarring. 

"You are intrigued, are you not?"

"...I am a little, I confess, yes."

He smiled a little, strong arms folded in front of him. 

"I am a djinn. Florence is reaching out to some of her more interesting contacts on every plane with this particular problem. But she trusts me, and so you may too. I have no interest in bringing either of you harm, and in fact there is a powerful binding on me that prevents any other charging me to harm her. By extension, I believe that protection extends to you. And, I am earnest to reassure you, her dealings with me have not been consorting with demons in any way you might imagine. And certainly nothing like... Azazel," he wrinkled his nose as he spoke the name, and Carol could not mistake his tone or expression for anything less than contempt. 

She nodded. There was something about him that put her at ease, and none of her magical alarm bells were sounding. She trusted Florence, and Florence's judgement, and evidently the... man, she would continue to refer to him as a man, was also acquainted with the Lady Galadriel. That was sufficient for her to give him a chance, at least. 

"Well, I won't deny that I have questions, but I do appreciate your honesty with me. Perhaps we will meet again."

"I look forward to it," he smiled a slow smile, bowed to both of them, and closed the connection. 

Carol glanced at Florence, both her eyebrows raised. 

"A demon?"

"A djinn. One of the Darth class of spirits, actually. Immensely powerful, with a surprisingly strong moral code that they adhere to. Not technically demons, but... on the fringes, I suppose. They do not fall under the jurisdiction of any of the princes of hell, but they are a... similar class of power which is often tarred with the same brush. Neither innately evil, nor innately good, but reliably lawful. The first mentions of them actually pre-date Islam, and the djinni themselves are believed to have been on the Earth before Adam. They're a fascinating group, though djinn is rather a catch-all term."

Carol smiled at her affectionately, stroking a wisp of hair which had escaped Florence's bun back behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Florence smiled up at her, her eyes dancing. 

"...I'm sorry, am I rambling?"

"...You are an academic at heart, and your thirst for knowledge is one of the many things I have come to love about you as I have discovered it, but now it's time for dinner and perhaps the more arcane pursuits can wait?"

Florence chuckled as she leaned up for a kiss which Carol gladly surrendered, and stood. 

"Very well, let's see what we can whip up this time..."

~

Debbie sat on the edge of the bed and sniffed, swiping at her eyes. She forced a damp little smile, her shoulders hunched. 

"...So, I guess I've been kind of a bitch, huh?"

Lou smiled a little in return and sat next to her, shoulder to shoulder, right up close in Debbie's space, nudging her playfully as she said, "...Maybe a bit."

Debbie nodded slowly and sniffed again. 

"...Yeah that's fair. And I think I owe a lot of apologies. I'm hoping I'll be able to apologise to Florence at dinner. But I owe you one too, so..." she curled her fingers into the mattress, one hand squeezed tight between her thigh and Lou's, and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I've been a brat. You've been... well, pretty wow, honestly. In a lot of ways. I guess I just don't get how you can be so calm about all this."

Lou shrugged, tilting her head a little and staring out of the window. It was easy enough to be honest about it, but it was easier if she didn't have to look Debbie in the eye. 

"...It's because, unlike you, I know nobody's going to miss me. Nobody's going to miss me, and nobody's going to come looking, so I have to make the best of the situation. If I want to get out of this alive, and I do, even if I'm not sure why. Don't exactly have a lot to live for. Mostly I think it's just wanting to live long enough to see it get better and prove everyone wrong," she shrugged. "Spite can be a pretty powerful motivator."

Debbie laughed a little, taking her turn to nudge Lou this time, but then she sighed, letting her head fall forwards, hiding in the curtain of her hair. 

"Yeah, you're right... except... that's kind of the problem, I guess? I don't... actually believe that my family's going to look for me. I'm pretty sure it'll just be easier for them if I don't come home. Apart from my brother, I think he'll look, but my parents... this isn't..." Debbie sighed, throwing her head back and staring out into the sunset, trying to find the words. When she spoke again it was slower, as if she were considering every word and selecting them carefully. "...If I had been taken, in a business dealing or whatever, if this was a kidnapping and ransom situation or something, then... they'd be looking. They'd be trying to get me back, it would be... well, it would be personal but it would also be business. It wouldn't... if they didn't, it would make them look weak. So if this was that, then they'd be trying to get me back because of the family honour and how it would look. But this isn't that. And outside of those parameters I honestly don't believe they care about me enough to look that hard."

Lou nodded slowly, and still without looking at Debbie, gazing wordlessly at the way the sun was disappearing behind the house opposite, she covered Debbie's hand with her own against the mattress, squashed between their thighs where they were sitting close enough to touch. After a moment, Debbie took it and squeezed. Lou squeezed back.

Eventually Lou broke the silence. 

"I'm sorry. That's shitty."

Debbie nodded, then shrugged again. Lou could feel the movement even more now she was holding Debbie's hand. 

"...It is. I've been thinking it for a while, honestly, and I guess... a lot of what made me react so badly against this is that... I've kinda been trying to ignore it, and pretend that things are okay. I mean, I lie, a lot, including to myself. Not about the big stuff, or, like, most of the big stuff, but the little everyday lies that everyone tells, you know, the ones where you pretend you're fine and everything's great? And I guess this just... made me... makes me realise that... you know... it's not."

"...You talk a lot, don't you."

It wasn't really a question, but when Lou turned to Debbie there wasn't anything mean on her face. If anything, she just looked amused. 

Debbie smiled a little and Lou had to admit she liked the way it jostled her when Debbie shrugged again. 

"I guess, yeah. You know, a lot of people have commented on that. Not really... well. Not something that a lot of people really like about me," she tilted her head, gazing at Lou. "You're not really one for the talking thing though, are you."

Lou shrugged. 

"I can be. Most of the time no one's ever that interested in hearing what I've got to say."

Debbie nodded, biting her lip a little, a tiny smile on her face and shining from her eyes. 

"...Well... I'm interested?"

Lou smiled. 

"I'll bear that in mind. If I can, y'know, get a word in edgeways."

Debbie laughed, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"Well I'm sure you'll find plenty of ways to make me shut up."

This time there was a wickedness to her smile, and Lou watched her for a long moment with narrowed eyes. 

"...Are you really into me? Or are you just hitting on me out of some twisted sense of I don't know?"

Debbie ducked her head a little, biting her lip again as she gazed up through her lashes. 

"...If I were really into you... would it be a problem?"

Slowly, Lou shook her head.

"...No. That would be..." she took a deep breath, but she was smiling just a little bit, trying to ignore the warm feeling a little behind her ribs because it sure as hell wouldn't do to get her hopes up about anything here, "That would be... pretty nice, actually."

Debbie smiled, warm and real and it felt like the sunshine on her skin through the window as the breath caught a little in Lou's throat. 

"Well then... great."


	11. Chapter 11

"Girls, it's time for dinner! Go wash up please!"

Debbie shifted against Lou, turning to look at her in the twilight. They'd been sitting in silence, pressed up against each other side by side and she at least had lost track of time.

Lou smiled back at her. 

"...Guess we should head down, huh?"

Debbie hummed. "Guess so..."

Lou chuckled and stood, still holding Debbie's hand, pulling the brunette up after her.

Debbie laughed as she stood too, still standing close, still in Lou's space because so far Lou didn't seem to have a problem with it, and Debbie would have been lying if she'd said it didn't make her feel at least a little bit more secure.

Lou glanced down at their still clasped hands, then back up to Debbie, squeezing gently. 

"...You want this?"

Debbie nodded, swallowing. 

"...Yeah. I do. If you're okay with that?"

Lou shrugged. 

"I mean, I don't think they're exactly gonna have a problem with it? C'mon. I'm hungry."

Debbie winced. 

"Yeah, sorry about missing lunch... maybe we could go tomorrow?"

Lou grinned as she headed for the door. 

"Yeah. I'd like that."

They headed downstairs together, still holding hands, and walked into the dining room. Lou kept her head held high, but Debbie was a little more hesitant about it, glancing at their clasped hands and then back up again, wary of censure.

Carol smiled as she set a dish on the table. 

"Hello girls, thank you for coming down so promptly..."

Lou nodded, glancing across the kitchen at Florence. 

Florence looked back over her shoulder at the two of them and smiled back. 

"Yes. Dinner is chicken, is that alright?"

"Smells great, thank you." Debbie said quietly, and she shifted a little, letting go of Lou's hand with a parting squeeze and interlacing her fingers behind her back. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, setting her jaw as she looked up at Florence. "And... I owe you an apology for my behaviour. I've been out of line and unconscionably rude, and you've been nothing but kind to me. So. Thank you. And I'm sorry."

Florence smiled, warm and real as she set another dish on the table and pulled off her oven gloves, putting them aside. 

"Apology accepted. Thank you. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.”

Debbie shrugged, swallowing. 

“…Thanks. I’m not. Or… I don’t know. It kinda sucks, but… not all of it, I guess? You’re pretty cool. You both are. And Lou is… well, I might never have gotten the chance to meet her if this hadn’t happened, and knowing her now I don’t think I’d be okay with that.”

Florence chuckled, and Debbie shifted a little, twisting her hands together. 

“So uh… how’d your day go? You any closer to figuring out what the f-… what’s going on? Or whatever?”

“I’ve spoken to a few old friends who are experts in different kinds of magic. There’s something after dinner that I need your help with, both of you. Or at least your cooperation.”

“What do you want to do?” Lou asked, blue eyes bright and interested behind her fringe.

Florence hesitated, glancing at Carol as she sat, and then looking back at the two young women. 

"...I'd like to test you both for any remaining magical residue from the spell that brought you here. There's no guarantee that there will be any but if there's any hint, it might help us identify the magic user responsible. It might also... there are some concerns about why you were brought back, and again, anything we can tell about potential motivations or any lingering effects... could be very valuable information."

Both Debbie and Lou nodded. Lou glanced over at Debbie as the brunette squared her shoulders, and Lou took her hand with a little reassuring squeeze, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a little at the grateful smile Debbie shot her. 

Debbie swallowed. 

"...Will it hurt?"

Florence shook her head. 

"Why..." Debbie took a deep breath, forcing herself to look up, challenge in the lines of her body and the set of her jaw even as she tried to keep her voice from shaking. "Why do you think we were brought here? Or sent here?"

Carol shifted to serve the dinner out, eyes on Florence, ready to step in if she needed to but knowing she could offer nothing of any substance. No answers, no information... she was as clueless as the girls, but she knew how valuable it was that they be able to trust the adults in this situation. 

Florence shook her head. 

"No. This is the first step towards finding out. There are potential reasons, but... I wouldn't feel comfortable speculating."

Debbie nodded, squeezing Lou's hand tight again under the table. 

"...No. Okay. Fair enough. Thank you."

Florence smiled at her warmly. 

"You're welcome."

"Alright, let's table business for the moment. It's time to eat."

~

After dinner, Carol stood to clear the plates. Florence hesitated awkwardly, half-rising.

"Let me?"

Carol smiled and shook her head. 

"No love, you have more important things to do."

"But I should have made dinner-"

"And the world will not end because I cooked and cleaned on the same night. I can cope."

Debbie glanced between them, wrinkling her nose a little. 

"Uh... sorry for asking what's probably a dumb question but like... you're magic, right? So how come you can't just use that for cleaning up?"

Lou, meanwhile, got up and crossed to the sink, pushing up her sleeves and offering to take the plates wordlessly from Carol. 

Carol smiled her appreciation as she handed them over, and Lou started running hot water into the bowl. She glanced back over her shoulder at Debbie to answer, having waited for Florence to explain if she wished to. 

"Magic is... not something to be taken for granted. I'd be lying if I said we hadn't used it to speed cooking up occasionally, and Florence's cookies are quite frankly one of the best uses of magic I know, but... magic is like any other kind of strength, it has to be respected. It also goes very much hand in hand with discipline, and to a certain extent, power is finite."

"What does that mean?" Lou asked from beside the sink, looking up with interest. 

"It means... that there are limits on it. Everyone has a kind of... reserve of power. Without training, it's a small amount and it comes out in small things. Maybe you have a knack for... hmm... say you always pick up the phone just before it rings, or something like that. With training, the reserve gets bigger and what you can do with it gets bigger, like training to lift weights in a gym. If you use some of your magic to take care of the dishes, then that's magic you don't have to do something else with, and sometimes it can take time to recharge it. Doing dishes is not an arduous thing to do."

"Say what?"

Carol chuckled. 

"It's not hard. And it... is a physical thing, a grounding thing. It's a way of anchoring you to this time and this place and this plane and this reality. There's a delight to the simple things when you spend the majority of your time dealing with the arcane and complex. And the best magic users are responsible. It's a way of accepting the consequences to your actions on a small scale. You create mess, so you clean the mess. It parallels magic quite neatly actually."

"That's as maybe," Lou retorted from the sink, "But you will never convince me that anybody actively likes doing dishes."

Carol laughed outright. 

"Perhaps not, but it's kind of you to help nonetheless."

Debbie shifted awkwardly, as though she were feeling bad for not having stood up when Lou did, and she turned to Florence to deflect that feeling. 

"...So what does this test involve exactly?"

"Actually, that is a very good point... would you be able, please, to go upstairs and fetch the clothes you were both wearing when you arrived?"

Debbie frowned a little, confusedly, but stood nonetheless. 

"Uh... sure. I'll just go do that."

Carol finished clearing the table, picking up a tea towel and drying the dishes as Lou set them in the rack. 

"...Where do you want to do this? In the work room?"

"...No. I don't think so. I wonder if perhaps we should do some tests upstairs, in the room where Lou arrived? But we'll see. Any traces are most likely to be on the girls' persons or on their clothes. If there is anything in the places they arrived it's the most likely to have dissipated. So we'll start with the clothes and the girls, and see if we find anything there. Perhaps the living room would be best?"

Carol nodded slowly, considering. 

"I suppose... there's no value in going next door and using Jonathan's library is there? I know it's well warded."

Florence smiled. 

"It's a good thought, minette, but it shouldn't be necessary I hope."

"I've never done something like this before. It seems to me that it would be very useful to be able to detect traces of magic. Can you teach me?"

Florence stood and kissed her cheek, taking a clean, dry plate from Carol to set back neatly in its place in the cupboard. 

"I think that should be quite simple, yes. It's well-aligned with your natural ability actually. Revealing that which is hidden often is closely intertwined with concealment."

Carol chuckled, angling her body towards Florence, greedy and shameless about it. 

"You flatter me darling."

"Uh... sorry, I hate to interrupt but... what do you mean natural ability exactly? Doesn't magic just work the same for everyone?"

Florence turned her attention to Lou. 

"That's an interesting question. There are certain fundamentals or basics that work more or less the same for everyone, but everyone's power naturally has a certain strength or affinity. Lewis' magic comes from his love of words, Jonathan's comes from... what might pass for music. Carol has a natural affinity for workings around concealment and appearance."

"...Yeah? That's cool. What about you?"

Lou's eyes were bright under her fringe, and Florence met her gaze steadily, warmly, with unflinching kindness. 

"...I have a talent for the creation of amulets. Mostly protective charms, but amulets of a whole range of purposes."

"Florence is the greatest witch of the age." Carol cut in, warmly, and Florence flushed a little, flicking her lover a glance. 

"You flatter me."

"Hardly. You were one of the most powerful magic users in the world, and now you're coming back to your full strength. You're incredibly smart and you know a lot about a lot of things, quite aside from your specialism in amulets." Carol was almost glowing with pride as she looked on at her lover for a long moment, then she turned her attention to Lou with a wicked smile. "Of course, she would never tell you that herself. Nevertheless, it's true."

"She's exaggerating."

Carol nudged Florence playfully in the ribs and Lou grinned. 

"You know... I like you. I trust you. But on this one, I gotta say she's coming across as more believable than you."

Carol laughed, and Florence sighed although she was smiling. 

"...In that case, I concede."

Carol kissed her cheek. 

"Good."

"Uh..." Debbie walked back in, a pile of clothes in her arms which she set down on the kitchen table, looking between the rest of them, "I think I got everything, but I'm starting to feel like I missed something down here..."

"Not at all."

Carol took the final plate from Lou, drying it and setting it neatly back in the cupboard. 

"Well, if everything's finished in here perhaps we should adjourn to the living room?"

Florence took a deep breath and nodded. 

"Yes. I think that would be best."


	12. Chapter 12

The girls followed Carol into the living room while Florence disappeared into the work room to fetch some things. Lou stuck close to Debbie, taking her hand with a slight reassuring smile when the brunette glanced back at her over her shoulder. Whatever this was, they were in it together. Debbie shot back a smile of her own, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Lou squeezed her hand. 

She took a deep breath and glanced back at Carol. 

"...Is this gonna hurt?"

Carol paused, and Lou shifted to stand closer to Debbie, pressed right up against her side, feeling the pounding of Debbie's heart against her ribs. 

"I don't know, because this isn't magic I really know. I'm still very new at this. But, I find it very unlikely."

Florence stepped back in through the door of the workroom, closing it behind her and setting down a few objects on the side table. 

"What was the question?"

Debbie took another deep breath and switched her attention to Florence instead, holding on to both of Lou's arms, one in front of her and one behind, fingers curling into the fabric of Lou's shirt. 

"...Is this gonna hurt?"

Florence blinked, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Oh goodness no. This is very simple, it's a variant of scrying. Nothing more than some sigils and a mirror."

Debbie nodded slowly, and Lou could feel some of the tension bleeding out of her. 

"...Okay. Thanks."

Florence nodded, looking both of them in the eye, waiting until she was sure she had their attention before she spoke again. Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo a little in the sudden silence. 

"...While you are in this house, while you are staying with us here, you are under our protection. Under my protection. I can promise you that we will do everything in our power to make sure that you do not come to harm here. We cannot protect against everything, but we can do a great deal. As much as it is possible to be safe anywhere, you are safe here."

Both Lou and Debbie nodded, and the spell of Florence's words seemed broken. 

"Are you gonna test us separately or at the same time?" Lou asked now, still steady, still at Debbie's back. 

"I think the results will be clearer if I test you separately. You both came from the same day, yes, but you came from very different places. While I suspect that the spell which captured you both was the same, the difference in geographical component could be key in determining its origin and how it works."

Lou nodded slowly. 

"I guess that makes sense. Can we stay together though?"

"Of course," Florence smiled, "You don't need to be separated for this. I know this is awful, I don't want to make it any harder on you than it already is."

Both girls nodded, and finally Debbie peeled herself away from Lou reluctantly, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin a little. 

"...Okay. I volunteer to go first. What do I need to do?"

"I was going to start by examining the clothes you were wearing, but I suppose it would be easier for you if we got this over with. Just sit on the couch and try not to move?" 

Florence smiled reassuringly, and Debbie nodded as she perched on the edge of the couch. 

Carol frowned a little. 

"Should we put up any warding?"

"The wards already in place should be enough. Anything evil enough to be a problem from their point of view we would already have noticed. Whoever did this was subtle."

"I really don't know whether to find that reassuring," Lou drawled, stepping closer to rest a hand on Debbie's shoulder. 

Debbie glanced up at her, reaching to cover Lou's hand with her own for a moment before she let her arm drop and took another deep breath, shifting back on the couch to a less unnatural position and returning her attention to Florence

Florence set a circular mirror on a nearby table and covered it with a very thin layer of pungent oil. 

Lou sniffed curiously. 

"What is that?"

Florence drew two wands, one clear and one black, from a small velvet bag and set one bisecting the mirror. 

"It's a blend of frankinscence and myrrh," she replied, eyes dancing a little as she glanced over, "There's a reason those things permeated consciousness enough to have ended up in a holy text. There is a little hint of lemon too. They should all help us see more clearly, and any dark traces we pull out will be trapped between the mirror and the oil, so it will help keep things contained."

"And what are the... are those wands?"

"They are, but not wands like you might think of magic wands. This one is quartz, the other is obsidian. Now." Florence turned to Debbie, softening her demeanour a little. "All I'm going to do is run the quartz wand over you. Because it's clear and primed, if there is any trace of the magic that brought you here lingering on your person, the wand will absorb it and may well change colour. The mirror will enhance and magnify the traces, perhaps giving us more of a hint. Even the colour of the power would take us some way towards identifying who was involved. Every magic user in the cosmos has a unique signature to their work. That's what we're trying to find."

Carol stepped forward, hesitant. 

"...Is there anything I can do to help?"

Florence considered for a moment.

"Actually, there is. I was going to conduct the ritual myself this time, because although your affinity is with concealment and revelation I know this is something you haven't seen before and I thought it be easier to watch first. It's never easy and occasionally dangerous to work magic on unfamiliar ground. That being said, perhaps you should be the one to look into the mirror. You might not understand the things you see, but I suspect you will see more than I will, and we need every advantage we can get."

Carol nodded, her eyes steady. 

"Shall I fetch a notebook to write down what I see?"

Florence nodded, smiling at Lou. 

"Perhaps you could take notes? Carol won't be able to look away from the mirror when she's seeing. The images won't linger. Just write down anything she says, and don't worry about whether it makes any sense."

Lou nodded, swallowing. 

"...Can I do that both times, or will we need to trade off?"

"It's up to you."

A large furry bulk ambled into the room, and Florence sighed as she smiled. 

"You have the worst sense of timing."

"Boof."

Victor made his way to the couch and sat on the floor next to Debbie, his head more or less at the level of her shoulder. 

Florence sighed. 

"...Alright, yes. You can be here as a comfort, but please don't lean on her until I've finished the examination."

"Boof."

"You are quite possibly the least helpful familiar in existence, I hope you know that."

He regarded her with unshaken equanimity, and Debbie managed a little laugh. 

"...Well I appreciate him being here anyway."

Florence smiled. 

"You can give him a big hug when I'm finished. I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

Debbie nodded. 

"I would too."

Florence picked up the quartz rod and stepped closer, beginning to pass it over Debbie from the crown of her head down her body, along her arms, along her legs. Each pass was slow, but not painfully so, and Debbie's breathing was starting to calm. After three passes over her body, Florence turned to the mirror and set the clouded quartz wand across it at right angles to the obsidian. The moment she did so, Debbie flung herself on the Newfoundland's neck, grateful for the warm steadiness of his bulk. 

Carol was ready, standing by the table, and she braced her hands on it and focused her eyes on the mirror, allowing her vision to drift enough to see through it.

"...Green. Definitely green. Dark, like a forest... at the edges it almost shades to black, it isn't one solid colour. There's something moving... a wolf, I think..."

Her eyes burned with the effort of focus and she finally blinked. When she looked again the mirror was silver and nothing more. She glanced at Florence, who nodded slowly, keeping her face impassive.

"...Well, we're certainly further forward than we were. Lou, did you get all of that?"

The blonde nodded, and Florence smiled. 

"Alright then, perhaps you could switch places?"

Lou took one look at where Debbie had sunk to her knees in front of Victor, still wrapped around him, and walked around to sit on the other end of the couch, putting the notepad and pen within easy reach on the coffee table. 

Florence stepped around to join her without comment, while Carol offered a conspiratorial smile. 

Florence lifted the quartz rod from the mirror and placed it in a silver basin she had arranged on the coffee table which was full of water. She made sure it was fully submerged, then drew a few complicated sigils above the water. When she lifted it out it was once more clear and cleansed.

Lou sat carefully upright, not moving a muscle as the wand was passed over her in much the same way as it had been passed over Debbie. Once more as it moved over her it became gradually clouded, and Florence once more set it carefully across the obsidian when she had finished. 

Carol stared at the mirror as hard as she could, already focused from the moment the quartz was set in place and the silver surface changed.

"...Green again. Definitely. Dark green, and black. And... a skull. A wolf skull. No it's... shifting... now it's human." She was barely aware of the quiver in her own voice.

Once more she closed her eyes and the mirror cleared. She shook her head, trying to banish the ache in her eyes and her temples, and the images that still lingered on her eyelids from the scrying. Florence was right, they meant nothing to her, but when she opened her eyes it was in time to see a brief flash of concern on Florence's face before she schooled it to a relaxed smile. 

"Alright. Well done both of you. I know that must have been scary, and probably more than a little draining, but it's done now and we have learned something. The more we know, the more likely it becomes that we can do something about this magic. How about I make you some cocoa to take up to bed, and the two of us will clean up down here? I need to discuss these findings with some friends of mine and do a little research before I can be sure of their interpretation."

Lou's gaze was shrewd. 

"...But you think you know?"

Florence shrugged and shook her head. 

"I can't say anything with any confidence. I can think of a handful of possibilities. I need some help to narrow them down."

She turned her attention to where Debbie was still wrapped around the Newfoundland and smiled. 

"...Perhaps you can take Victor up to bed with you? He's quite comforting."

Debbie nodded vigorously. 

"Yeah. Thanks. I'd like that. And the cocoa sounds good too. You uh... you make good cocoa. And good cookies. Nobody's ever... well. That hasn't really been a thing before. It's nice."

Lou nodded in agreement, shifting over to scritch Victor between the ears. Neither Carol nor Florence felt the need to comment on the way she also occasionally stroked Debbie's hair. 

Florence smiled and clapped her hands, handing each of them a mug of creamy hot cocoa. 

"Well then, that's settled. Thank you for your cooperation tonight. Goodnight, sweet dreams."

Carol smiled, offering Debbie a hand up from the floor which the girl accepted and giving her a hug. 

"Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Debbie nodded, turning hesitantly to Florence, who also stepped over to embrace her for a moment. 

When they parted, Debbie swallowed and headed for the stairs, Victor on her tail. 

Lou looked between both of the adults, hands wrapped around the mug of cocoa tightly. 

"...Thanks. For being so patient with both of us. This whole thing is fu-... it's weird. But honestly I think here with you might be the safest I've ever felt. But tonight was... well. It was pretty cool. Maybe at some point you can tell me a little more about how this all works."

Carol smiled, standing next to Florence now, and nodded. 

"We'd be happy to."

Florence nodded in agreement. 

"...Would you like a hug too?"

After a moment's consideration, Lou nodded. She hugged each woman briefly in turn, then collected her cocoa again and headed for the stairs. 

"Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this update hasn't taken that long compared to some (believe me, I'm very aware of all the things that need updates, including things that haven't been updated for nearly a year, they aren't abandoned, I just have a life as well and things have been very stressful.) I'd just like to thank you all again for your patience :) 
> 
> Since I know not everyone reads all my work, I'll just repeat the PSA from the oneshot I posted earlier this week. I have spent, as some of you know, the last four years working on a PhD. I had my viva this week, and I can confirm that I successfully defended my thesis. 
> 
> So basically, I've been busy.


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